Is Home Here?

Mom

I remembered the sweet smell of Mom's perfume as we raced through the field of lavender. "Last one there is a rotten egg!" Mom shouted, practically jumping with joy as she ran ahead of me. We both had the biggest smiles on our faces.

But then, I was sitting at her bedside.
"I'm sorry, Olive. I wish I was better so we could run in the lavender field again." Mom said, her voice hoarse and tired. We where in our cabin in the Alaskan woods, Mom's favorite place in the entire world. The only person other than me and Mom in the room was the doctor, who sat in a chair beside me. The day Mom had started feeling sick I had to run through the woods to find him. Even through the lavender field.

Supposedly Mom had cancer, basically an incurable disease in the deep Alaskan woods. Alaska was Moms favorite place. She loved the wild life and the woods. We loved the weeks when there was only night, along with the illuminating light of the aurora lights in the sky.
"Mom, I promise you, we're going to run in the lavender field again, you deserve it. You're going to walk again." I said sternly, wiping a tear away from my eye. I couldn't stay strong any longer. She had been like this for months.

"My darling Olive, there's something you must know," Mom began, looking into my eyes. "Your father lives in Dallas, Texas. Kenna will take you there. He's your only family left. I am not going to be able to run in the lavender field again. I am too sick, and I will be going up into the aurora lights soon. I want you to live a happy life, Olive. I will see you again, I love you, my dearest baby." A tear streamed down my cheek, Mom's sickly hand wiping it away.

I had to let go.
But I couldn't.
"I love you too, Mom." I whispered.
Mom looked at me with wide eyes, her body eventually going cold.
The doctor looked at me with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry, Olive. She's gone." The doctor then wrapped Mom up with a white sheet, my whole body frozen. She was gone. Just like that.

That night, I was alone in the house until Kenna, Mom's friend came. The lingering presence of Mom made me feel sick. But I knew she was up in the aurora lights, feeling happier than ever. Grandmother Miranda was up there, and so was other generations in our family. I was the only one left. All I had was my Dad that I remembered nothing of.

While I waited for Kenna, I packed my things. My wallet, my snow globe, my photographs, my camera, my blankets and pillows, the only thing I couldn't pack was the cabin. Our cabin. The only thing that truly mattered. I looked at the clock on the wall. 8 PM. It was getting late. The bears would be out soon. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I wiped my crying eyes and looked through the tiny peep hole. Kenna.

I quickly opened the door and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I held my pillow tightly. I looked behind me, taking in everything. "What's wrong? We have to get going. The train leaves in 3 hours. The jeep only has so much gas left in it," Kenna chirped, crossing her arms. "Listen, I get that you're upset about your Mom. My Dad died when I was around your age-" I then grabbed my camera out of my backpack, not listening to a word Kenna was saying. I snapped a picture of the cabin and watched it as it formed, my heart beating softly.

The picture was perfect. Our cabin. Mom and I's cabin.

I then followed Kenna to the jeep, looking up at the aurora lights again. I snapped a picture. I looked at the picture as we pulled away from the cabin, my heart stopping. I wished Mom was alive so bad I felt sick to my stomach. Tears streamed down my cheeks. She would've wanted me to stay strong. And that was what I was going to do.